


Baby got Back

by ClasslessTulip



Series: Random Arcana Smut [2]
Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Tiberius, But Ty's totally topping from the bottom, Found one thing, M/M, Sexy Underwear, Slice of Life, Top Julian, Ty is a big booty bitch, and will twerk for drinks, bounce that bubble, but a subby top, he just had to, men in lingerie, that turns Julian into a top
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-07
Updated: 2018-09-07
Packaged: 2019-07-08 07:36:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15925838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClasslessTulip/pseuds/ClasslessTulip
Summary: Do NOT let your husband fight Plains Bull Wyrms without the appropriate equipment. This includes the standard-issue sexy underwear.





	Baby got Back

**Author's Note:**

> Bubble butt, bubble, bubble, bubble butt  
> Bubble butt, bubble, bubble, bubble butt  
> Bubble butt, bubble, bubble, bubble butt  
> Turn around, stick it out  
> Show the world you got a

     If Tiberius doesn't stop his pacing, Julian **would** **_not_ ** be held responsible for his actions. Not a court in the land would be able to state that it was nothing other than a justifiable homicide.

     (He would actually _earn_ his murderers mark.)

     He tried to be understanding and supportive; in the beginning, he truly **was**. It's not everyday that your Guild asks you to be part of the committee that is in charge of the overhaul and redesign of your field uniform and load-out.

 **Especially** if your Guild is the infamous Citadel. You know, the one that has specialist in all of **_the most dangerous magic fields and professions in the world._ **

     You need a volatile potion, you contact them. Got a wee beastie crawl out of a Gate? Citadel. Someone was stupid enough to fuck with a dragon while drunk? Citadel.

     You get the picture.

     And Tiberius, for his young age, was close to becoming a Master _Diagramma_ Specialist, specializing in Custom Casting and Banishment.

     So, it didn’t really surprise Julian when Tiberius was asked for what an ideal kit would be for others in that and a similar caste. After all, it would make sense to have the people who will actually _do the thing_ tell you what they need to ‘thing'.

     HOWEVER, they **were** surprised when Tiberius was tapped to do the field testing.

     They had received notice about a month ago, and sometime during this week, a courier was to drop everything off.

     Hence Tiberius getting all up in Julian’s business.

**Every. Day.**

     At first, it was kind of cute. He stayed in the living room, reading or working on smaller projects. Any time there was a knock at the door, he would spring up and dash to it...just to be disappointed that it was someone wanting to buy a brew or charm.

     He thought it was cute, like a little kid waiting for their Daddy to come home.

     But, it's been a week. Julian is Done.

_If he hears one more set of footsteps…_

     *knock knock knock*

     He closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. After a count of five, he slowly exhaled.

     *thumpthumpthUMPTHUMPTHUMP** _squeeeeeeek*_

     He started thinking about his adorable little sister, and her even cuter cat. About how nice and peaceful it is.

     (He disregarded what happened last time they visited her. Pasha has the same accuracy with a wooden spoon that dear ol’ Mazelinka has.)

     * _SLAM**THUDTHUTHUDTHUD*_

     Tiberius raced by, giggling like a disobedient child; the crate he was hauling was **massive**.

     As his _immature, childlike, exasperating_ husband bound up the steps to their bedroom, he sat his pen down. After placing a bookmark and shutting his journal, he followed. 

     After scaling all 15 steps, he followed the sounds of pure, unadulterated glee to their bedroom. He could hear loud rattling and creaking. 

     Julian admits, he’s curious about what **exactly** is in the kit. When he received his new uniforms, the package was not even a **fourth** the size of what Tiberius has.

     Did he get a gift basket? Additional items as a ‘Thank You’ for being one of the poor sods tapped to do “live testing”?

     (If Tiberius tries to take on a Plains Bull Wyrm, all in the name of “testing”, he will be _livid…_ )

     He passed thru the open doorway, pausing a few steps behind Tiberius. His husband sat cross legged on the ground, large box in front of him. He had already busted thru the crate, and pulled out a few things.

     He saw a dark leather rucksack, smaller removable pockets and pouches, a few belts and harnesses…

     So far, pretty standard field gear…

     ...a short sword, on the other hand, is **not**.

     Along with a full set of daggers and throwing knives, with matching sheaths and keepers. 

     His eyebrows rose when he saw what looks like a grappling hook, accompanied by strong rope.

     They met his hairline when he pulled out the actual uniform.

     It was multiple pieces, all dark leather. A few pairs of trousers with a high waist: they looked like they were closed by a belted corset closure, stopping just under the ribs.

     This was followed by four...jackets, for the lack of a better word. Close fitting, two with sleeves, one short sleeved, and one sleeveless. Instead of closing straight down, they started buttoning at the left shoulder and went diagonal, ending under the right arm before going straight down with a cord fly.

     Embedded in various places along the back and sides were metal rings and buckles. Julian assumes its for blade and kit attachment. Although there were a few too low for him to make sense of, with two dangling leather ‘flaps' projecting down the front and back.

     They kind of reminded him of a lady’s garter belt…

     He was disturbed from his musings as a few pieces of **actual** ** _chain mail_ ** were revealed.

     “What the hell, Ty? Are you slaying dragons now? Rescuing damsels in distress? Need I fear for your affections?”

     Tiberius twisted to face him with a smirk. “Fear not, good sir! No maidens shall be deflowered this day, for my affections lay buried in the backside of my fellow man!”

     A loud snort erupted from Julian.

     After a cheeky wink, Tiberius turned back to his goodie box. A few sets of leather gloves, in different lengths and thicknesses were seen.

     Julian went red when the boots came out.

     “Your **_not_ ** leaving the **house** in those. In fact, your not leaving the **_bedroom_ ** in those!”

     “I have no idea what your talking about.”

     Tiberius was full of shit, and they both knew it. Who _the fuck_ decided to include THIGH HIGH bitch-boots in a fucking **FIELD. UNIFORM?**

     (No, Julian hasn't heard the story of the pot and kettle.)

     That same dark leather, the boots had a thick sole; the grain and treading on them would be perfect for all sorts of terrain. Over the toe was a steel plate, burnished to prevent light refraction. Up the back were laces, with a flap and button set-up to cover them.

     And at the top…

     Julian NOW knows what the leather flaps on either side of the jacket are for: to anchor the boots.

     ...like garters.

     There were a few more oddball things as well, but that was the bulk of the order. After brushing off some dust, Tiberius stood, taking the clothing with him.

     “I'm going to let these air-out in one of the spare rooms. In a few days, I’ll put them through their paces. Do you think you can put this down in my workshop for me, luv?”

     Julian took the presented bundle. It was rolled up tightly, kept closed with a few cords. It wasn't very large, and the material was quite soft, almost silky.

     “New ingredients?” It wasn't unusual for more delicate things to be sent this way.

     “Nah, just my unders.”

     “...what do you mean, ‘unders'?”

     “Wearing that much leather next to bare skin for long periods of time is a bad idea. So, we needed something light, durable, and breathable. Ergo, Drakarian silk thermo-regulating under clothes. Essentially, lounge wear, just closer cut.”

     Julian felt a slight stab of disappointment. While the material _is_ nice, its cut is utilitarian.

     Tiberius can make a lot of stuff look good, but not something like this.

     Tiberius smiled, seeing Julian's down expression. “Sorry babe. The Guild won't shell out for sexy underwear. At the rate some of the members go thru their current kits, we’d be bankrupt in a year.”

     “...a man can dream.”

***

     He woke late, having only gone to bed in the early morning hours.

     (Whoever decided it would be funny to tell that tourist that Brin’s bull was ‘as friendly as a puppy! C’mon, give him some pets!’ was going to catch his fists.)

     Hair a mess and eyes bleary, Julian stumbled into their bathroom. As he did his morning ablutions, he could make out the scent of coffee and...smoked ham?

     Ty must have gone and gotten some gammon steaks from the butcher…

     ... _what did he do?_

     Being an out and proud Hedonist, it takes monumental effort to get Tiberius out of bed by 10. It's only 9:30 right now. He had to be out and about by 8 in order to get a few gammon steaks: they're Dulla’s most popular cut, and she won’t put any aside for love nor money for _just anyone_.

     (Especially not Ty. Not after that tiff between him and her daughter caused all that property damage.)

     He made his way downstairs, stomach growling like an angry lion. At the dining table, Ty already sat. His hair was in a messy bun at the back of his head, reading glasses perched on his nose as he read a paper.

     (A spike of interest ran thru Julian: glasses on Ty look _really good_.)

     Tiberius looked up, flashing a smile. “Morning, gorgeous.”

     At Julian's usual spot sat a covered plate. Under it, a thick gammon steak, fried potatoes and a simple cucumber salad were placed.

     Quite the hearty meal.

     After a quick ‘Thank you’, he started in. On the side of the table sat Tiberius’s plate, ready to be washed.

     Tiberius stood, his long pajama shirt left unbuttoned, displaying a _lovely_ strip of muscled abdomen.

     He picked up his plate, heading to the sink. He usually waits for Julian to be at the table before making the coffee, liking to enjoy a cup together before the day starts.

     Julian pulled the paper towards him, unfolding it.

     “I’ll be going out to try on the new kit later on today. One of Hale’s daughters is interested in being a member, and I figure something simple like a Ward Fence check would be a good start.” A large coffee cup, filled to the brim (black, no cream or sugar) appeared on his right.

     “Um hmm…”

     “Of course, that won't be until late afternoon. Until then, tell me what you think of this…?”

     Julian looked up, taking a sip of coffee as he twisted to the right…

     ...just to spray it.

     Sputtering, he grabbed his napkin in a futile attempt to hide his fuchsia face.

     “ **WHERE** DID you get th~ **at**?” His voice broke on the last word.

     Tiberius had on his usual nightshirt, a rich and bright blue. He usually wore it unbuttoned, to Julian's eternal delight.

     What WAS new was...everything else.

     Instead of his usual boy-short brief, he wore what could only be a high cut bikini brief. At his waist, was an honest-to-god  ** _garter belt_ ** , who’s clips traveled down to and snapped onto **_fucking thigh highs_ **! The silken stockings ended in a yoga foot, and looked like they were painted on, did they so lovingly mold to sculpted, muscular thighs and curved calves.

     Julian was just on this side of hyperventilating; the black, silky underclothing was hitting so many kinks he both knew and did **not** know he had, he was on the verge of burnout. His eyes never stopped, traveling the same circuit over and over.

     Tiberius smirked as he leaned against the counter. He propped one long-fingered hand on his cut hip, the other rested on the patch of bare skin between brief and stocking. The resulting change drug and folded his sleep shirt _just_ right for maximum effect.

     “Well?”

     He got a high pitched, whistling squeak for an answer. It reminded Ty of their tea kettle.

     “Glad you like it. Want to help me take it off?”

     If Julian’s eyes weren't so firmly attached to his skull, they would have popped out with how hard he was nodding his head.

     Ty stalked forward, adding a slight roll to his hips. He grabbed Julian’s hand, yanking him out of the chair and pulling him up the stairs.

     Julian had a first row seat to Ty’s _magnificent bubble butt_ as they went up the stairs. His free hand traveled up strong thighs as they flexed and bulged, propelling their owner up the stairs. He was delighted to learn that the brief Ty wore was a thong-backed one, leaving each full cheek free to jiggle at each step.

     Julian has never desired to top in the _entirety_ of their relationship. Not for lack of trying, he’s just happy with the way things are. He’s a subby bottom and he knows it. He’s asked Ty a few times if he ever wanted to switch, but Ty’s happy with what they got if Julian’s happy. But now…

     ...Julian wants to tap that ass. He wants to tap it _so fucking_ **_hard._ **

     The high cut at the hips, the way the back of the waistband _framed_ the top of a bountiful bubble, the sheen of silk on sensuous skin…

     He’s going to utterly destroy such a desirable derriere.

     (Tiberius should be proud of the lengths Julian has gone in his mental soliloquy; it's difficult to fit this amount of alliteration in such a short time.)

     He stumbled at the top step, distracted. Tiberius pushed the bedroom door open, using the motion to swing and push a poleaxed doctor onto the bed.

     Julian landed with a hard _whump_ , bouncing a bit, the heavy bed creaking in protest. As he was pushing himself upright against the pillows, Tiberius stripped off and tossed gracelessly his sleep shirt. In that same motion, he glided onto the bed on silken knees. He ‘walked' his way up, straddling a long set of legs. As he got to Julian's lap, he removed and tossed his glasses onto his night table.

     He sat heavily, dropping his ample ass hard onto the waiting lap below. He attached his lips to a gasping mouth, grinding down onto the waiting clothed erection.

     Julian moaned loud and long, fingers tangling in curls as hot lips and tongue stripped him of breath. Large hands curled about his face, turning his face this way and that as Tiberius did his best to kill with a kiss.

     He moaned as he was ground into again. His nimble fingers travels down an artful neck, danced around sculpted shoulders, and skated down firm sides to rest at cut hips. Those same fingers wasted little time grasping firm cheeks and squeezing. He slapped one at the agreeable hum he got in response, the sound of the loud _crack_ echoing slightly.

     Tiberius started rolling his hips, back and thighs working **hard** to make his backside dance. Soon, the mattress and bed started to move in the same rhythm, creaking at the apex of a roll.

     Lips still attached, Tiberius gasped into the panting mouth below his when long, tricky fingers grasped his waistband, jerking it down and over supple skin. This forced the front of the band to _dig_ into his erection, trapped.

     Tiberius is nothing but thorough in his planning; he wore his briefs **over** the garter band for easy removal.

     Settling his palms on either side of Julian's head, he sat up and leaned down, pushing his chest into Julian’s face. He groaned when teeth attached themselves around a tight nipple, and shuddered when it was licked.

     With some quick and clever shuffling, Julian skimmed the briefs down strong thighs, stilling when Ty gave a shimmy and kicked them off and away.

     As Tiberius perched himself back on his lap (right where he belongs, something deep inside him growled), Julian thanked the gods for giving him this man. If one did doubt in the existence of the Goddess of Love, they only need to look at his husband to become a believer.

     A flush to cheeks, hair a mess and eyes hooded in lust. Tiberius was arching his neck in _that way_ , his proud shoulders back and straight. His chest was on full display, pectorals and abdominal tight at his presentation. His hands were traveling, rubbing the space between chest and neck. One taught nipple glistened, a circlet of red around it from nipping teeth. A proud erection jutted out from a nest of dark hair at the junction of his legs, a bead of precum at its curved tip.

     Julian leaned up, giving the other nipple the same treatment. He relished in the throaty moan he received. He _delighted_ in the hiss he got as he slapped both hands down on full cheeks, adding a firm rub and squeeze to soothe. 

     He leaned back, lips shiny. Tiberius scooted up, scooping his arms behind him and pulling down Julian's sleep pants. Julian wiggled, then kicked them off as his cock sprang free. He moaned in delight as it nuzzled between firm cheeks.

     He leaned, arm stretching out to his side table, fingers wriggling towards their oil.

     Tiberius beat him; by raising himself up, stabilizing the dick below him, _and sinking down on it in one motion._

     He groaned loudly, rolling his hips as he sat. Poor Julian was left a wreck, his feet pressing into the bedding and his fingers scratching furrows into thick thighs. His moan joined the others as he realized Ty had **prepared** for all of this.

     He bucked up, pushing the last few inches in. He lay gasping, clawing bedding as he did everything possible not to lose it then and there.

     He most certainly **_did not appreciate_ ** the quiet chuckle his distress produced in the other.

     “You gonna last, babe?”

     Julian could just _feel_ that smirk.

     Opening eyes he had not realized he had closed, he gripped hips and bucked hard, smirking in satisfaction in the **_moan_ ** he got. 

     Face flushed, Tiberius glared down at him. “Just cause **you** ain't on my dick, doesn't mean **I’m** not topping.”

     Julian's smirk grew. “Wanna bet?”

     Challenge Issued.

     “Your on.”

     Challenge Accepted.

     Tiberius wiggled a bit. He squeezed Julian's sides with his knees, before bouncing **_up and forward_ ** , bringing them both closer to the headboard. Julian helped, pressing his feet into the mattress and pushing them.

     Tiberius slapped both hands over the wooden board in a hard grip, grinding down. After a few more rolls of the hips, he started **bouncing.**

     Using the board as leverage, he hauled himself up and pushed himself down dick. Soon, the bed was quaking, the board hitting the wall it was butted up against.

     Disorientated, it took Julian a few moments to process what was happening. Soon, with hands on working hips, he was helping push and pull, his own hips rising to meet. The sounds of moans and flesh were ringing throughout the room.

     Julian's hands soon crawled up from quaking hips to curl around the thick garter band, using it as additional leverage for their lustful play. His arms bulged and strained, _trying_ to pull the bouncing, flexing ass down so he could grind up and in.

     This was now a contest on who would pop off first. Julian intended to win.

     Soon, Tiberius’s hips stuttered. Julian took the advantage that was presented, locking his arms and hands, and fucking up into the hot, tight heat. His thrust were so hard and fast, the bed frame was **slamming** into the wall, leaving divots.

     On a particularly hard thrust, Tiberius let out a surprised cry, collapsing onto folded arms on the frame.

     “Oh **_FUCK_ ** ! Sweet boy, keep going! Don't you **_dare fucking stop!_ ** ” He relaxed his hips, allowing Julian to do whatever he pleased with them. Each strike against that _wonderful_ spot ripped loud cries from deep in his chest. Soon he was helping Julian work it, back, hips, and thighs doing everything they could to assist. He sang praises to Hedonism, Behau, _any_ deity out there that wanted to hear, about his _fucking precious husband._

     Julian mouthed the panting chin above him, all but begging for a kiss. He was obliged; open mouthed and sloppy kisses were exchanged, tongues tangling briefly.

     Tiberius cried into the open mouth below him. He landed on quivering arms, his chest to Julian's face after a particularly vigorous thrust. He arched his back, grinding his crying cock into the stomach below him. He spread his thighs as far as he could, popping his ass. His bent legs and feet hooked and pushed open the others legs, trying to get as low as possible.

     The new position forced the cock buried within him to rub _perfectly_ against him. After a few twitches, he started bouncing his cheeks minutely, chasing and _loving_ how the head of Julian's dick was pressing so **fucking** **_perfectly_ **.

     Soon, all Julian could do was grab jiggling cheeks and hold on. He collapsed onto his back, letting out a loud groan, trying to help the hips move. Tiberius soon buried his face in the other neck, alternating between biting and moaning.

     The loud vocalizations were almost too much for Julian. The fingers that tangled into his hair had forced his head back, to receive unhinged kisses brought him closer to the edge.

     He lost it completely when Tiberius ground down as hard as he could several times, hips rolling back and forth in large swings as he exploded across both of their stomachs, his moans crescendo-ing into a hoarse scream.

     Julian groaned loudly, pushing the twitching hips down and bucking himself up. He nearly blacked out when Tiberius mustered the energy to add a few more fast, quick bounces in an effort to milk Julian for all that he was worth.

     They collapsed into a sweaty, spasming mess. Both were panting like dogs on a hot summer day.

     After a few listless minutes, Julian tried to dislodge Ty.

     He was unsuccessful in his endeavor...because Tiberius has over 175 pounds of muscle on him.

     After some more fruitless wiggling, he delivered a hard slap to the ass cheek still under his hand. One that rent a pathetic, warbling moan from him as he only just remembered he was still buried in that dynamite ass.

     Tiberius took pity on him, rolling off and to the side. Both whimpered as hypersensitive parts were detached.

     Soon after, they curled up, dropping off into a nap.

***

     “So...how’d I do?”

     “You were fucking **_perfect_ ** , Ty. Ten out of ten, would ride again.”

     “I had better be the best ride in town, you destroyed the stockings. They’re not cheap.”

     “Sorry...where did you get them from?”

     “They were in the kit.”

     “!”

     “In fact, this is _all_ part of the standard kit.”

     “!!”

     “I can also get replacements for a pretty decent price. Something about a trade deal with the Tailors Guild in Drakar.”

     “!!!”

  
     “What are you doin- oh, **_OHHHHHHHhhhh~!_ ** ”

**Author's Note:**

> Here we can see the mating habits of a wild Julian Devorak. Stay tuned next week for the continued documentary of an untamed Tiberius Principia.


End file.
